In Most Loving Memory (12-27-16)
by Jaina Durron
Summary: 12/27/16 In her book 'The Princess Diarist', Carrie Fisher said that she and Leia are pretty much the same person.


Yeah, this suddenly came out.

I think this is how we all feel . . .

* * *

She was loyal. She was fierce. She was compassionate and brave and daring and witty. She faced Vader and Tarkin and Jabba the Hutt. She faced Tsavong Lah the Warmaster and survived. She lived and loved and fought to no end. She thrived for peace and justice and hope. She fought for worlds, people, her own family. Most of what she'd ever done was in the name of her family members.

If Jaina could name every deed her mother had done to protect her . . . If she could name every sacrifice her mother had made . . . She wouldn't have the time to even visit her mother before they took her body away.

With a shaky hand, Jaina reached out and caressed her mother's cool, pale cheek. She sat down beside her and crumpled onto the bed, burying her face in her mother's chest. There was no sound of a pounding heart there to respond beneath her ear. That only strengthened the power of her tears.

Jaina's mother was gone. The woman that she had spent her whole life looking up to, the woman who had taught her about life, love, hardship, and how to survive . . . was dead. Her heart had beat its last and her chest had heaved its last breath. Now, all that was left was this cold body and decades worth of memories.

Of laughter, of love, of tears. Of surviving. So many people had loved her and she'd loved so many back. Alderaan had claimed her as theirs; she'd cared for her planet with all her heart until she lost it. She and Luke had been best friends as long as they'd known each other. Jaina found herself mourning a woman who she had first been at odds with, struggling to build a relationship after years of separation. But Jaina had come to understand all her mother's sacrifices and now she mourned not only her mother, but her best friend.

Jaina looked up to watch her father and uncle. The two stood on the other side of the med-bed, staring down at their lost love. Tears ran down both's cheeks and Han had both hands holding her as if to take her lifeless body into his arms. He'd held her already, as her life had slowly drained away. In her weak, soft voice, Leia had begged him to and he'd obeyed without a thought. Now, he longed to hold her again, Jaina could tell.

Han's gaze floated up to meet his daughter's and that was all it took to make them both burst into tears. Jaina jumped from her seat and ran around the foot of the bed to land in her father's arm. And just like he had when she'd been so much younger, he took her in and held her close. This time, though, he leaned into her just as much as she leaned into him. They rocked each other and cried together until they heard the squeak of Luke starting to cry aloud. At this point, Han let go of his daughter to grab his brother-in-law and hug him fiercely. "She's-she's really gone," the Jedi Master cried, no longer the master of his feelings. "I don't understand . . . she's really gone."

It was only now that Jaina could begin to understand how her mother, father, and uncle had always been best friends first before family. It was what had kept them close. Before the truth to Luke and Leia's parentage had been discovered and before Han and Leia had married, the three of them had been best friends. Now, a part of their trio was gone and there was no salvaging that heartbreak.

No longer able to handle the tears, the pain, the heartbreak, Jaina ran from the room. She fell in the middle of the busy medcenter hallway, crying in a heap on the floor. She didn't even need to fall asleep for the beautiful memories to torment her. Her mother, her best friend, her hero and role model . . . was forever gone.

* * *

In memory of everyone's favorite Ice Princess . . .

I wrote this really quickly, so I'll probably mass-edit it later, but I just needed to get this out. When the feels hurt, so fanfiction comes out . . .

Also, comments might help heal this tortured author . . .


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